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Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER IX

But the privations, or rather the hardships, of Lowood lessened. Spring drew on: she was indeed already come; the frosts of winter had ceased; its snows were melted, its cutting winds ameliorated. My wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings of April; the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature froze the very blood in our veins; we could now endure the play-hour passed in the garden: sometimes on a sunny day it began even to be pleasant and genial, and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. Flowers peeped out amongst the leaves; snow-drops, crocuses, purple auriculas, and golden-eyed pansies. On Thursday afternoons (half-holidays) we now took walks, and found still sweeter flowers opening by the wayside, under the hedges. I discovered, too, that a great pleasure, an enjoyment which the horizon only bounded, lay all outside the high and spike-guarded walls of our garden: this pleasure consisted in prospect of noble summits girdling a great hill-hollow, rich in verdure and shadow; in a bright beck, full of dark stones and sparkling eddies. How different had this scene looked when I viewed it laid out beneath the iron sky of winter, stiffened in frost, shrouded with snow!—when mists as chill as death wandered to the impulse of east winds along those purple peaks, and rolled down “ing” and holm till they blended with the frozen fog of the beck! That beck itself was then a torrent, turbid and curbless: it tore asunder the wood, and sent a raving sound through the air, often thickened with wild rain or whirling sleet; and for the forest on its banks, that showed only ranks of skeletons. April advanced to May: a bright serene May it was; days of blue sky, placid sunshine, and soft western or southern gales filled up its duration. And now vegetation matured with vigour; Lowood shook loose its tresses; it became all green, all flowery; its great elm, ash, and oak skeletons were restored to majestic life; woodland plants sprang up profusely in its recesses; unnumbered varieties of moss filled its hollows, and it made a strange ground-sunshine out of the wealth of its wild primrose plants: I have seen their pale gold gleam in overshadowed spots like scatterings of the sweetest lustre. All this I enjoyed often and fully, free, unwatched, and almost alone: for this unwonted liberty and pleasure there was a cause, to which it now becomes my task to advert. Have I not described a pleasant site for a dwelling, when I speak of it as bosomed in hill and wood, and rising from the verge of a stream? Assuredly, pleasant enough: but whether healthy or not is another question. That forest-dell, where Lowood lay, was the cradle of fog and fog-bred pestilence; which, quickening with the quickening spring, crept into the Orphan Asylum, breathed typhus through its crowded schoolroom and dormitory, and, ere May arrived, transformed the seminary into an hospital. Semi-starvation and neglected colds had predisposed most of the pupils to receive infection: forty-five out of the eighty girls lay ill at one time. Classes were broken up, rules relaxed. The few who continued well were allowed almost unlimited license; because the medical attendant insisted on the necessity of frequent exercise to keep them in health: and had it been otherwise, no one had leisure to watch or restrain them. Miss Temple's whole attention was absorbed by the patients: she lived in the sick-room, never quitting it except to snatch a few hours' rest at night. The teachers were fully occupied with packing up and making other necessary preparations for the departure of those girls who were fortunate enough to have friends and relations able and willing to remove them from the seat of contagion. Many, already smitten, went home only to die: some died at the school, and were buried quietly and quickly, the nature of the malady forbidding delay. While disease had thus become an inhabitant of Lowood, and death its frequent visitor; while there was gloom and fear within its walls; while its rooms and passages steamed with hospital smells, the drug and the pastille striving vainly to overcome the effluvia of mortality, that bright May shone unclouded over the bold hills and beautiful woodland out of doors. Its garden, too, glowed with flowers: hollyhocks had sprung up tall as trees, lilies had opened, tulips and roses were in bloom; the borders of the little beds were gay with pink thrift and crimson double daisies; the sweetbriars gave out, morning and evening, their scent of spice and apples; and these fragrant treasures were all useless for most of the inmates of Lowood, except to furnish now and then a handful of herbs and blossoms to put in a coffin. But I, and the rest who continued well, enjoyed fully the beauties of the scene and season; they let us ramble in the wood, like gipsies, from morning till night; we did what we liked, went where we liked: we lived better too. Mr. Brocklehurst and his family never came near Lowood now: household matters were not scrutinised into; the cross housekeeper was gone, driven away by the fear of infection; her successor, who had been matron at the Lowton Dispensary, unused to the ways of her new abode, provided with comparative liberality. Besides, there were fewer to feed; the sick could eat little; our breakfast-basins were better filled; when there was no time to prepare a regular dinner, which often happened, she would give us a large piece of cold pie, or a thick slice of bread and cheese, and this we carried away with us to the wood, where we each chose the spot we liked best, and dined sumptuously. My favourite seat was a smooth and broad stone, rising white and dry from the very middle of the beck, and only to be got at by wading through the water; a feat I accomplished barefoot. The stone was just broad enough to accommodate, comfortably, another girl and me, at that time my chosen comrade—one Mary Ann Wilson; a shrewd, observant personage, whose society I took pleasure in, partly because she was witty and original, and partly because she had a manner which set me at my ease. Some years older than I, she knew more of the world, and could tell me many things I liked to hear: with her my curiosity found gratification: to my faults also she gave ample indulgence, never imposing curb or rein on anything I said. She had a turn for narrative, I for analysis; she liked to inform, I to question; so we got on swimmingly together, deriving much entertainment, if not much improvement, from our mutual intercourse. And where, meantime, was Helen Burns?

Why did I not spend these sweet days of liberty with her? Had I forgotten her? or was I so worthless as to have grown tired of her pure society? Surely the Mary Ann Wilson I have mentioned was inferior to my first acquaintance: she could only tell me amusing stories, and reciprocate any racy and pungent gossip I chose to indulge in; while, if I have spoken truth of Helen, she was qualified to give those who enjoyed the privilege of her converse a taste of far higher things. True, reader; and I knew and felt this: and though I am a defective being, with many faults and few redeeming points, yet I never tired of Helen Burns; nor ever ceased to cherish for her a sentiment of attachment, as strong, tender, and respectful as any that ever animated my heart. How could it be otherwise, when Helen, at all times and under all circumstances, evinced for me a quiet and faithful friendship, which ill-humour never soured, nor irritation never troubled? But Helen was ill at present: for some weeks she had been removed from my sight to I knew not what room upstairs. She was not, I was told, in the hospital portion of the house with the fever patients; for her complaint was consumption, not typhus: and by consumption I, in my ignorance, understood something mild, which time and care would be sure to alleviate. I was confirmed in this idea by the fact of her once or twice coming downstairs on very warm sunny afternoons, and being taken by Miss Temple into the garden; but, on these occasions, I was not allowed to go and speak to her; I only saw her from the schoolroom window, and then not distinctly; for she was much wrapped up, and sat at a distance under the verandah. One evening, in the beginning of June, I had stayed out very late with Mary Ann in the wood; we had, as usual, separated ourselves from the others, and had wandered far; so far that we lost our way, and had to ask it at a lonely cottage, where a man and woman lived, who looked after a herd of half-wild swine that fed on the mast in the wood. When we got back, it was after moonrise: a pony, which we knew to be the surgeon's, was standing at the garden door. Mary Ann remarked that she supposed some one must be very ill, as Mr. Bates had been sent for at that time of the evening. She went into the house; I stayed behind a few minutes to plant in my garden a handful of roots I had dug up in the forest, and which I feared would wither if I left them till the morning. This done, I lingered yet a little longer: the flowers smelt so sweet as the dew fell; it was such a pleasant evening, so serene, so warm; the still glowing west promised so fairly another fine day on the morrow; the moon rose with such majesty in the grave east. I was noting these things and enjoying them as a child might, when it entered my mind as it had never done before:— “How sad to be lying now on a sick bed, and to be in danger of dying! This world is pleasant—it would be dreary to be called from it, and to have to go who knows where?” And then my mind made its first earnest effort to comprehend what had been infused into it concerning heaven and hell; and for the first time it recoiled, baffled; and for the first time glancing behind, on each side, and before it, it saw all round an unfathomed gulf: it felt the one point where it stood—the present; all the rest was formless cloud and vacant depth; and it shuddered at the thought of tottering, and plunging amid that chaos. While pondering this new idea, I heard the front door open; Mr. Bates came out, and with him was a nurse. After she had seen him mount his horse and depart, she was about to close the door, but I ran up to her. “How is Helen Burns?”

“Very poorly,” was the answer.

“Is it her Mr. Bates has been to see?”

“Yes.”

“And what does he say about her?”

“He says she'll not be here long.”

This phrase, uttered in my hearing yesterday, would have only conveyed the notion that she was about to be removed to Northumberland, to her own home. I should not have suspected that it meant she was dying; but I knew instantly now! It opened clear on my comprehension that Helen Burns was numbering her last days in this world, and that she was going to be taken to the region of spirits, if such region there were. I experienced a shock of horror, then a strong thrill of grief, then a desire—a necessity to see her; and I asked in what room she lay. “She is in Miss Temple's room,” said the nurse. “May I go up and speak to her?”

“Oh no, child!

It is not likely; and now it is time for you to come in; you'll catch the fever if you stop out when the dew is falling.” The nurse closed the front door; I went in by the side entrance which led to the schoolroom: I was just in time; it was nine o'clock, and Miss Miller was calling the pupils to go to bed. It might be two hours later, probably near eleven, when I—not having been able to fall asleep, and deeming, from the perfect silence of the dormitory, that my companions were all wrapt in profound repose—rose softly, put on my frock over my night-dress, and, without shoes, crept from the apartment, and set off in quest of Miss Temple's room. It was quite at the other end of the house; but I knew my way; and the light of the unclouded summer moon, entering here and there at passage windows, enabled me to find it without difficulty. An odour of camphor and burnt vinegar warned me when I came near the fever room: and I passed its door quickly, fearful lest the nurse who sat up all night should hear me. I dreaded being discovered and sent back; for I must see Helen,—I must embrace her before she died,—I must give her one last kiss, exchange with her one last word. Having descended a staircase, traversed a portion of the house below, and succeeded in opening and shutting, without noise, two doors, I reached another flight of steps; these I mounted, and then just opposite to me was Miss Temple's room. A light shone through the keyhole and from under the door; a profound stillness pervaded the vicinity. Coming near, I found the door slightly ajar; probably to admit some fresh air into the close abode of sickness. Indisposed to hesitate, and full of impatient impulses—soul and senses quivering with keen throes—I put it back and looked in. My eye sought Helen, and feared to find death. Close by Miss Temple's bed, and half covered with its white curtains, there stood a little crib. I saw the outline of a form under the clothes, but the face was hid by the hangings: the nurse I had spoken to in the garden sat in an easy-chair asleep; an unsnuffed candle burnt dimly on the table. Miss Temple was not to be seen: I knew afterwards that she had been called to a delirious patient in the fever-room. I advanced; then paused by the crib side: my hand was on the curtain, but I preferred speaking before I withdrew it. I still recoiled at the dread of seeing a corpse. “Helen!” I whispered softly, “are you awake?” She stirred herself, put back the curtain, and I saw her face, pale, wasted, but quite composed: she looked so little changed that my fear was instantly dissipated. “Can it be you, Jane?” she asked, in her own gentle voice. “Oh!” I thought, “she is not going to die; they are mistaken: she could not speak and look so calmly if she were.” I got on to her crib and kissed her: her forehead was cold, and her cheek both cold and thin, and so were her hand and wrist; but she smiled as of old. “Why are you come here, Jane?

It is past eleven o'clock: I heard it strike some minutes since.” “I came to see you, Helen: I heard you were very ill, and I could not sleep till I had spoken to you.” “You came to bid me good-bye, then: you are just in time probably.”

“Are you going somewhere, Helen?

Are you going home?” “Yes; to my long home—my last home.”

“No, no, Helen!” I stopped, distressed. While I tried to devour my tears, a fit of coughing seized Helen; it did not, however, wake the nurse; when it was over, she lay some minutes exhausted; then she whispered— “Jane, your little feet are bare; lie down and cover yourself with my quilt.” I did so: she put her arm over me, and I nestled close to her. After a long silence, she resumed, still whispering— “I am very happy, Jane; and when you hear that I am dead, you must be sure and not grieve: there is nothing to grieve about. We all must die one day, and the illness which is removing me is not painful; it is gentle and gradual: my mind is at rest. I leave no one to regret me much: I have only a father; and he is lately married, and will not miss me. By dying young, I shall escape great sufferings. I had not qualities or talents to make my way very well in the world: I should have been continually at fault.” “But where are you going to, Helen?

Can you see? Do you know?” “I believe; I have faith: I am going to God.”

“Where is God?

What is God?” “My Maker and yours, who will never destroy what He created. I rely implicitly on His power, and confide wholly in His goodness: I count the hours till that eventful one arrives which shall restore me to Him, reveal Him to me.” “You are sure, then, Helen, that there is such a place as heaven, and that our souls can get to it when we die?” “I am sure there is a future state; I believe God is good; I can resign my immortal part to Him without any misgiving. God is my father; God is my friend: I love Him; I believe He loves me.” “And shall I see you again, Helen, when I die?” “You will come to the same region of happiness: be received by the same mighty, universal Parent, no doubt, dear Jane.” Again I questioned, but this time only in thought.

“Where is that region? Does it exist?” And I clasped my arms closer round Helen; she seemed dearer to me than ever; I felt as if I could not let her go; I lay with my face hidden on her neck. Presently she said, in the sweetest tone— “How comfortable I am!

That last fit of coughing has tired me a little; I feel as if I could sleep: but don't leave me, Jane; I like to have you near me.” “I'll stay with you, dear Helen: no one shall take me away.” “Are you warm, darling?”

“Yes.”

“Good-night, Jane.”

“Good-night, Helen.”

She kissed me, and I her, and we both soon slumbered.

When I awoke it was day: an unusual movement roused me; I looked up; I was in somebody's arms; the nurse held me; she was carrying me through the passage back to the dormitory. I was not reprimanded for leaving my bed; people had something else to think about; no explanation was afforded then to my many questions; but a day or two afterwards I learned that Miss Temple, on returning to her own room at dawn, had found me laid in the little crib; my face against Helen Burns's shoulder, my arms round her neck. I was asleep, and Helen was—dead. Her grave is in Brocklebridge churchyard: for fifteen years after her death it was only covered by a grassy mound; but now a grey marble tablet marks the spot, inscribed with her name, and the word “Resurgam.”

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CHAPTER IX KAPITEL IX CAPÍTULO IX CHAPITRE IX 第九章 CAPÍTULO IX ГЛАВА IX BÖLÜM IX РОЗДІЛ IX 第九章

But the privations, or rather the hardships, of Lowood lessened. ||лишения|||||||уменьшились Mais les privations, ou plutôt les difficultés, de Lowood s'atténuent. Spring drew on: she was indeed already come; the frosts of winter had ceased; its snows were melted, its cutting winds ameliorated. La primavera se acercaba: de hecho, ya había llegado; las heladas del invierno habían cesado; sus nieves se derritieron, sus vientos cortantes mejoraron. Le printemps s'avançait : elle était en effet déjà venue ; les gelées de l'hiver avaient cessé ; ses neiges avaient fondu, ses vents coupants s'étaient apaisés. My wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings of April; the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature froze the very blood in our veins; we could now endure the play-hour passed in the garden: sometimes on a sunny day it began even to be pleasant and genial, and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. Mes pieds misérables, écorchés et enflés de boiterie par l'air vif de janvier, commencèrent à guérir et à se calmer sous les respirations plus douces d'avril; les nuits et les matins qui n'étaient plus par leur température canadienne gelaient le sang même dans nos veines; nous pouvions maintenant endurer l'heure de jeu passée dans le jardin: parfois, par une journée ensoleillée, elle commençait même à être agréable et chaleureuse, et une verdure grandissait sur ces lits bruns, qui, se rafraîchissant tous les jours, suggéraient la pensée que l'Espoir les traversait la nuit. , et laissait chaque matin des traces plus claires de ses pas. Flowers peeped out amongst the leaves; snow-drops, crocuses, purple auriculas, and golden-eyed pansies. Des fleurs jaillissaient parmi les feuilles; des gouttes de neige, des crocus, des auricules violettes et des pensées aux yeux dorés. On Thursday afternoons (half-holidays) we now took walks, and found still sweeter flowers opening by the wayside, under the hedges. Les jeudis après-midi (demi-vacances) nous nous promenions maintenant et trouvions des fleurs encore plus douces s'ouvrant au bord de la route, sous les haies. I discovered, too, that a great pleasure, an enjoyment which the horizon only bounded, lay all outside the high and spike-guarded walls of our garden: this pleasure consisted in prospect of noble summits girdling a great hill-hollow, rich in verdure and shadow; in a bright beck, full of dark stones and sparkling eddies. Je découvris aussi qu'un grand plaisir, une jouissance que l'horizon ne faisait que délimiter, s'étendait tout en dehors des hauts murs gardés par des pointes de notre jardin: ce plaisir consistait en la perspective de nobles sommets ceignant une grande colline creuse, riche en verdure et l'ombre; dans un endroit lumineux, plein de pierres sombres et de tourbillons étincelants. How different had this scene looked when I viewed it laid out beneath the iron sky of winter, stiffened in frost, shrouded with snow!—when mists as chill as death wandered to the impulse of east winds along those purple peaks, and rolled down “ing” and holm till they blended with the frozen fog of the beck! À quel point cette scène avait-elle été différente lorsque je la vis disposée sous le ciel de fer de l'hiver, raidie de givre, enveloppée de neige! - quand des brumes aussi froides que la mort erraient sous l'impulsion des vents d'est le long de ces pics violets et roulaient vers le bas. ing ”et holm jusqu'à ce qu'ils se mélangent avec le brouillard gelé du beck! That beck itself was then a torrent, turbid and curbless: it tore asunder the wood, and sent a raving sound through the air, often thickened with wild rain or whirling sleet; and for the forest on its banks, that showed only ranks of skeletons. Ce signe lui-même était alors un torrent, trouble et incurvé: il déchirait le bois et envoyait dans l'air un son délirant, souvent épaissi par une pluie folle ou un grésil tourbillonnant; et pour la forêt sur ses rives, cela ne montrait que des rangs de squelettes. April advanced to May: a bright serene May it was; days of blue sky, placid sunshine, and soft western or southern gales filled up its duration. Avril avançait à mai: un mai serein et lumineux; des jours de ciel bleu, de soleil placide et de doux coups de vent d'ouest ou du sud ont rempli sa durée. And now vegetation matured with vigour; Lowood shook loose its tresses; it became all green, all flowery; its great elm, ash, and oak skeletons were restored to majestic life; woodland plants sprang up profusely in its recesses; unnumbered varieties of moss filled its hollows, and it made a strange ground-sunshine out of the wealth of its wild primrose plants: I have seen their pale gold gleam in overshadowed spots like scatterings of the sweetest lustre. Et maintenant, la végétation mûrit avec vigueur; Lowood secoua ses tresses; il est devenu tout vert, tout fleuri; ses grands squelettes d'orme, de frêne et de chêne ont retrouvé une vie majestueuse; les plantes des bois poussaient abondamment dans ses renfoncements; des variétés innombrables de mousse remplissaient ses creux, et elle faisait un étrange soleil-sol de la richesse de ses plantes sauvages de primevère: j'ai vu leur or pâle briller dans des endroits ombragés comme des dispersions du plus doux lustre. All this I enjoyed often and fully, free, unwatched, and almost alone: for this unwonted liberty and pleasure there was a cause, to which it now becomes my task to advert. Tout cela, je jouissais souvent et pleinement, gratuitement, sans surveillance et presque seul: pour cette liberté et ce plaisir hors du commun, il y avait une cause, à laquelle il devient maintenant ma tâche d'annoncer. Have I not described a pleasant site for a dwelling, when I speak of it as bosomed in hill and wood, and rising from the verge of a stream? N'ai-je pas décrit un site agréable pour une habitation, quand j'en parle comme étant entouré de collines et de bois, et s'élevant au bord d'un ruisseau? Assuredly, pleasant enough: but whether healthy or not is another question. Assurément, assez agréable: mais si sain ou non est une autre question. That forest-dell, where Lowood lay, was the cradle of fog and fog-bred pestilence; which, quickening with the quickening spring, crept into the Orphan Asylum, breathed typhus through its crowded schoolroom and dormitory, and, ere May arrived, transformed the seminary into an hospital. |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||salle de classe|||||||||||| Cette forêt-dell, où reposait Lowood, était le berceau du brouillard et de la peste engendrée par le brouillard; qui, s'accélérant avec la source vivifiante, se glissa dans l'asile des orphelins, souffla le typhus dans sa salle de classe et son dortoir bondés, et, avant l'arrivée de mai, transforma le séminaire en hôpital. Semi-starvation and neglected colds had predisposed most of the pupils to receive infection: forty-five out of the eighty girls lay ill at one time. La semi-famine et les rhumes négligés ont prédisposé la plupart des élèves à contracter des infections : quarante-cinq des quatre-vingts filles ont été malades à un moment donné. Classes were broken up, rules relaxed. Les cours ont été interrompus, les règles assouplies. The few who continued well were allowed almost unlimited license; because the medical attendant insisted on the necessity of frequent exercise to keep them in health: and had it been otherwise, no one had leisure to watch or restrain them. Les rares qui ont bien continué ont droit à une licence presque illimitée; parce que le médecin insiste sur la nécessité de faire de fréquents exercices pour les maintenir en bonne santé: et s'il en avait été autrement, personne n'avait le loisir de les regarder ou de les retenir. Miss Temple’s whole attention was absorbed by the patients: she lived in the sick-room, never quitting it except to snatch a few hours' rest at night. The teachers were fully occupied with packing up and making other necessary preparations for the departure of those girls who were fortunate enough to have friends and relations able and willing to remove them from the seat of contagion. Les enseignants ont été entièrement occupés à faire les bagages et les autres préparatifs nécessaires au départ des jeunes filles qui avaient la chance d'avoir des amis et des parents capables et désireux de les éloigner du foyer de la contagion. Many, already smitten, went home only to die: some died at the school, and were buried quietly and quickly, the nature of the malady forbidding delay. While disease had thus become an inhabitant of Lowood, and death its frequent visitor; while there was gloom and fear within its walls; while its rooms and passages steamed with hospital smells, the drug and the pastille striving vainly to overcome the effluvia of mortality, that bright May shone unclouded over the bold hills and beautiful woodland out of doors. Tandis que la maladie était ainsi devenue un habitant de Lowood, et la mort son visiteur fréquent; tandis qu'il y avait de la tristesse et de la peur dans ses murs; tandis que ses chambres et ses couloirs bouillonnaient d'odeurs d'hôpital, la drogue et la pastille s'efforçant vainement de surmonter les effluves de la mortalité, ce mai brillant brillait sans nuages sur les collines audacieuses et les beaux bois à l'extérieur. Its garden, too, glowed with flowers: hollyhocks had sprung up tall as trees, lilies had opened, tulips and roses were in bloom; the borders of the little beds were gay with pink thrift and crimson double daisies; the sweetbriars gave out, morning and evening, their scent of spice and apples; and these fragrant treasures were all useless for most of the inmates of Lowood, except to furnish now and then a handful of herbs and blossoms to put in a coffin. Son jardin aussi brillait de fleurs: les roses trémières avaient poussé comme les arbres, les lis s'étaient ouverts, les tulipes et les roses étaient en fleurs; les bordures des petits lits étaient gaies d'économies roses et de doubles marguerites cramoisies; les sweetbriars diffusaient, matin et soir, leur parfum d'épices et de pommes; et ces trésors parfumés étaient tous inutiles pour la plupart des détenus de Lowood, sauf pour fournir de temps en temps une poignée d'herbes et de fleurs à mettre dans un cercueil. But I, and the rest who continued well, enjoyed fully the beauties of the scene and season; they let us ramble in the wood, like gipsies, from morning till night; we did what we liked, went where we liked: we lived better too. Mais moi, et les autres qui ont continué à bien se porter, nous avons profité pleinement des beautés de la scène et de la saison ; on nous a laissés nous promener dans les bois, comme des gitans, du matin au soir ; nous avons fait ce que nous voulions, nous sommes allés où nous voulions : nous avons aussi mieux vécu. Mr. Brocklehurst and his family never came near Lowood now: household matters were not scrutinised into; the cross housekeeper was gone, driven away by the fear of infection; her successor, who had been matron at the Lowton Dispensary, unused to the ways of her new abode, provided with comparative liberality. M. Brocklehurst et sa famille ne se sont jamais approchés de Lowood maintenant: les affaires du ménage n'étaient pas examinées de près; la femme de ménage croisée était partie, chassée par la peur de l'infection; son successeur, qui avait été matrone au Lowton Dispensary, peu habitué aux habitudes de sa nouvelle demeure, doté d'une libéralité relative. Besides, there were fewer to feed; the sick could eat little; our breakfast-basins were better filled; when there was no time to prepare a regular dinner, which often happened, she would give us a large piece of cold pie, or a thick slice of bread and cheese, and this we carried away with us to the wood, where we each chose the spot we liked best, and dined sumptuously. De plus, il y avait moins à nourrir; les malades pouvaient manger peu; nos bassins de petit-déjeuner étaient mieux remplis; quand il n'y avait pas le temps de préparer un dîner régulier, ce qui arrivait souvent, elle nous donnait un gros morceau de tarte froide, ou une épaisse tranche de pain et de fromage, et cela nous avons emporté avec nous dans le bois, où nous avons chacun choisi l'endroit que nous avons préféré et avons dîné somptueusement. My favourite seat was a smooth and broad stone, rising white and dry from the very middle of the beck, and only to be got at by wading through the water; a feat I accomplished barefoot. Mon siège préféré était une pierre lisse et large, s'élevant blanche et sèche du milieu même du pont, et ne pouvant être atteinte qu'en pataugeant dans l'eau; un exploit que j'ai accompli pieds nus. The stone was just broad enough to accommodate, comfortably, another girl and me, at that time my chosen comrade—one Mary Ann Wilson; a shrewd, observant personage, whose society I took pleasure in, partly because she was witty and original, and partly because she had a manner which set me at my ease. La pierre était juste assez large pour accueillir, confortablement, une autre fille et moi, à l'époque ma camarade choisie - une Mary Ann Wilson; un personnage perspicace et attentif, dont je prenais plaisir à la société, en partie parce qu'elle était spirituelle et originale, et en partie parce qu'elle avait des manières qui me mettaient à l'aise. Some years older than I, she knew more of the world, and could tell me many things I liked to hear: with her my curiosity found gratification: to my faults also she gave ample indulgence, never imposing curb or rein on anything I said. Quelques années plus âgée que moi, elle en savait plus sur le monde, et pouvait me dire beaucoup de choses que j'aimais entendre: avec elle ma curiosité trouvait gratification: à mes fautes aussi elle donnait amplement d'indulgence, n'imposant jamais de frein ou de frein à ce que je disais. She had a turn for narrative, I for analysis; she liked to inform, I to question; so we got on swimmingly together, deriving much entertainment, if not much improvement, from our mutual intercourse. Elle avait un tour pour le récit, moi pour l'analyse; elle aimait informer, moi questionner; nous nous sommes donc bien entendus ensemble, tirant beaucoup de divertissement, sinon beaucoup d'amélioration, de nos relations mutuelles. And where, meantime, was Helen Burns?

Why did I not spend these sweet days of liberty with her? Had I forgotten her? or was I so worthless as to have grown tired of her pure society? ou étais-je si sans valeur pour me lasser de sa société pure? Surely the Mary Ann Wilson I have mentioned was inferior to my first acquaintance: she could only tell me amusing stories, and reciprocate any racy and pungent gossip I chose to indulge in; while, if I have spoken truth of Helen, she was qualified to give those who enjoyed the privilege of her converse a taste of far higher things. Sûrement la Mary Ann Wilson que j'ai mentionnée était inférieure à ma première connaissance: elle ne pouvait que me raconter des histoires amusantes, et rendre la pareille aux ragots racés et piquants auxquels j'avais choisi de me livrer; tandis que, si j'ai dit la vérité sur Hélène, elle était qualifiée pour donner à ceux qui jouissaient du privilège de sa conversation un avant-goût de choses bien supérieures. True, reader; and I knew and felt this: and though I am a defective being, with many faults and few redeeming points, yet I never tired of Helen Burns; nor ever ceased to cherish for her a sentiment of attachment, as strong, tender, and respectful as any that ever animated my heart. C'est vrai, lecteur; et je le savais et le ressentais: et bien que je sois un être défectueux, avec beaucoup de défauts et peu de points de rachat, je ne me suis jamais lassé d'Helen Burns; ni jamais cessé de nourrir pour elle un sentiment d'attachement aussi fort, tendre et respectueux que tout ce qui a jamais animé mon cœur. How could it be otherwise, when Helen, at all times and under all circumstances, evinced for me a quiet and faithful friendship, which ill-humour never soured, nor irritation never troubled? Comment pourrait-il en être autrement, alors qu'Helen, en tout temps et en toutes circonstances, me manifestait une amitié tranquille et fidèle, que la mauvaise humeur n'a jamais aigri, ni l'irritation n'a jamais troublé? But Helen was ill at present: for some weeks she had been removed from my sight to I knew not what room upstairs. Mais Helen était malade en ce moment : depuis quelques semaines, elle avait disparu de ma vue pour se réfugier dans je ne sais quelle pièce à l'étage. She was not, I was told, in the hospital portion of the house with the fever patients; for her complaint was consumption, not typhus: and by consumption I, in my ignorance, understood something mild, which time and care would be sure to alleviate. On m'a dit qu'elle ne se trouvait pas dans la partie hospitalière de la maison avec les malades atteints de fièvre, car elle souffrait de consomption et non de typhus ; et par consomption, j'entendais, dans mon ignorance, quelque chose de bénin que le temps et les soins ne manqueraient pas d'atténuer. I was confirmed in this idea by the fact of her once or twice coming downstairs on very warm sunny afternoons, and being taken by Miss Temple into the garden; but, on these occasions, I was not allowed to go and speak to her; I only saw her from the schoolroom window, and then not distinctly; for she was much wrapped up, and sat at a distance under the verandah. Cette idée fut confirmée par le fait qu'elle descendit une ou deux fois par des après-midi très chauds et ensoleillés, et que Miss Temple l'emmena dans le jardin ; mais, à ces occasions, je n'eus pas le droit d'aller lui parler ; je ne l'aperçus que de la fenêtre de la salle d'école, et encore, pas distinctement, car elle était très enveloppée et s'asseyait à distance sous la véranda. One evening, in the beginning of June, I had stayed out very late with Mary Ann in the wood; we had, as usual, separated ourselves from the others, and had wandered far; so far that we lost our way, and had to ask it at a lonely cottage, where a man and woman lived, who looked after a herd of half-wild swine that fed on the mast in the wood. Un soir, au début de juin, j'étais resté très tard avec Mary Ann dans le bois; nous nous étions, comme d'habitude, séparés des autres, et avions erré loin; si loin que nous nous sommes égarés, et avons dû le demander dans un chalet isolé, où vivaient un homme et une femme, qui s'occupaient d'un troupeau de porcs à moitié sauvages qui se nourrissaient du mât dans le bois. When we got back, it was after moonrise: a pony, which we knew to be the surgeon’s, was standing at the garden door. Mary Ann remarked that she supposed some one must be very ill, as Mr. Bates had been sent for at that time of the evening. Mary Ann fit remarquer qu'elle supposait que quelqu'un devait être très malade, puisqu'on avait fait venir M. Bates à cette heure de la soirée. She went into the house; I stayed behind a few minutes to plant in my garden a handful of roots I had dug up in the forest, and which I feared would wither if I left them till the morning. Elle entra dans la maison ; je restai quelques minutes pour planter dans mon jardin une poignée de racines que j'avais déterrées dans la forêt et que je craignais de voir se dessécher si je les laissais jusqu'au matin. This done, I lingered yet a little longer: the flowers smelt so sweet as the dew fell; it was such a pleasant evening, so serene, so warm; the still glowing west promised so fairly another fine day on the morrow; the moon rose with such majesty in the grave east. Cela fait, je m'attardai encore un peu : les fleurs sentaient si bon la rosée ; c'était une soirée si agréable, si sereine, si chaude ; l'ouest encore rayonnant promettait si bien une autre belle journée le lendemain ; la lune se levait avec tant de majesté dans l'est grave. I was noting these things and enjoying them as a child might, when it entered my mind as it had never done before:— ||||||||||||||est venu|||||||| Je notais ces choses et je les appréciais comme un enfant le ferait, quand cela m'est venu à l'esprit comme il ne l'avait jamais fait auparavant: - “How sad to be lying now on a sick bed, and to be in danger of dying! This world is pleasant—it would be dreary to be called from it, and to have to go who knows where?” Ce monde est agréable, il serait ennuyeux d'en être chassé et de devoir aller on ne sait où...". And then my mind made its first earnest effort to comprehend what had been infused into it concerning heaven and hell; and for the first time it recoiled, baffled; and for the first time glancing behind, on each side, and before it, it saw all round an unfathomed gulf: it felt the one point where it stood—the present; all the rest was formless cloud and vacant depth; and it shuddered at the thought of tottering, and plunging amid that chaos. Et puis mon esprit a fait son premier effort sérieux pour comprendre ce qui lui avait été infusé concernant le ciel et l'enfer; et pour la première fois il recula, déconcerté; et pour la première fois, jetant un coup d'œil derrière, de chaque côté et devant lui, il vit tout autour d'un gouffre insondable: il sentit le seul point où il se tenait - le présent; tout le reste était un nuage informe et une profondeur vide; et il frissonna à l'idée de chanceler et de plonger dans ce chaos. While pondering this new idea, I heard the front door open; Mr. Bates came out, and with him was a nurse. After she had seen him mount his horse and depart, she was about to close the door, but I ran up to her. Après l'avoir vu monter à cheval et partir, elle était sur le point de fermer la porte, mais je courus vers elle. “How is Helen Burns?”

“Very poorly,” was the answer.

“Is it her Mr. Bates has been to see?”

“Yes.”

“And what does he say about her?”

“He says she’ll not be here long.”

This phrase, uttered in my hearing yesterday, would have only conveyed the notion that she was about to be removed to Northumberland, to her own home. Cette phrase, prononcée à mon audition hier, n'aurait fait que véhiculer l'idée qu'elle était sur le point d'être renvoyée dans le Northumberland, chez elle. I should not have suspected that it meant she was dying; but I knew instantly now! Je n'aurais pas dû me douter que cela signifiait qu'elle était mourante; mais je savais instantanément maintenant! It opened clear on my comprehension that Helen Burns was numbering her last days in this world, and that she was going to be taken to the region of spirits, if such region there were. Il m'apparut clairement qu'Helen Burns comptait ses derniers jours dans ce monde et qu'elle allait être emmenée dans la région des esprits, si tant est qu'une telle région existe. I experienced a shock of horror, then a strong thrill of grief, then a desire—a necessity to see her; and I asked in what room she lay. J'ai éprouvé un choc d'horreur, puis un fort frisson de douleur, puis un désir - une nécessité de la voir; et j'ai demandé dans quelle pièce elle était couchée. “She is in Miss Temple’s room,” said the nurse. “May I go up and speak to her?”

“Oh no, child!

It is not likely; and now it is time for you to come in; you’ll catch the fever if you stop out when the dew is falling.” Ce n'est pas probable; et maintenant il est temps pour vous d'entrer; tu attraperas la fièvre si tu t'arrêtes quand la rosée tombe. The nurse closed the front door; I went in by the side entrance which led to the schoolroom: I was just in time; it was nine o’clock, and Miss Miller was calling the pupils to go to bed. L'infirmière a fermé la porte d'entrée; Je suis entré par l'entrée latérale qui menait à la salle de classe: j'étais juste à temps; il était neuf heures, et Miss Miller appelait les élèves à se coucher. It might be two hours later, probably near eleven, when I—not having been able to fall asleep, and deeming, from the perfect silence of the dormitory, that my companions were all wrapt in profound repose—rose softly, put on my frock over my night-dress, and, without shoes, crept from the apartment, and set off in quest of Miss Temple’s room. Ce pourrait être deux heures plus tard, probablement vers onze heures, quand je - n'ayant pu m'endormir, et estimant, du parfait silence du dortoir, que mes compagnons étaient tous enveloppés dans un profond repos - me levai doucement, enfilai ma robe sur ma chemise de nuit, et, sans chaussures, sortit de l'appartement et partit à la recherche de la chambre de miss Temple. It was quite at the other end of the house; but I knew my way; and the light of the unclouded summer moon, entering here and there at passage windows, enabled me to find it without difficulty. An odour of camphor and burnt vinegar warned me when I came near the fever room: and I passed its door quickly, fearful lest the nurse who sat up all night should hear me. Une odeur de camphre et de vinaigre brûlé m'avertit quand je m'approchai de la salle de fièvre: et je passai sa porte rapidement, de peur que l'infirmière qui restait toute la nuit ne m'entende. I dreaded being discovered and sent back; for I must see Helen,—I must embrace her before she died,—I must give her one last kiss, exchange with her one last word. Je redoutais d'être découvert et renvoyé, car il fallait que je voie Hélène, que je l'embrasse avant qu'elle ne meure, que je lui donne un dernier baiser, que j'échange avec elle un dernier mot. Having descended a staircase, traversed a portion of the house below, and succeeded in opening and shutting, without noise, two doors, I reached another flight of steps; these I mounted, and then just opposite to me was Miss Temple’s room. Après avoir descendu un escalier, traversé une partie de la maison en contrebas, et réussi à ouvrir et fermer, sans bruit, deux portes, j'arrivai à une autre volée de marches; je les montai, et juste en face de moi se trouvait la chambre de Miss Temple. A light shone through the keyhole and from under the door; a profound stillness pervaded the vicinity. Une lumière brillait à travers le trou de la serrure et sous la porte; une immobilité profonde envahissait le voisinage. Coming near, I found the door slightly ajar; probably to admit some fresh air into the close abode of sickness. En m'approchant, je trouvai la porte légèrement entrouverte; probablement pour faire entrer un peu d'air frais dans la demeure proche de la maladie. Indisposed to hesitate, and full of impatient impulses—soul and senses quivering with keen throes—I put it back and looked in. Indisposée à hésiter et pleine d'impulsions d'impatience - l'âme et les sens frémissants d'agonie acérée - je la remis et regardai. My eye sought Helen, and feared to find death. Mon œil chercha Hélène et craignit de trouver la mort. Close by Miss Temple’s bed, and half covered with its white curtains, there stood a little crib. Près du lit de Miss Temple, et à moitié couvert de ses rideaux blancs, il y avait une petite crèche. I saw the outline of a form under the clothes, but the face was hid by the hangings: the nurse I had spoken to in the garden sat in an easy-chair asleep; an unsnuffed candle burnt dimly on the table. J'ai vu le contour d'une forme sous les vêtements, mais le visage était caché par les tentures: l'infirmière à qui j'avais parlé dans le jardin était assise dans un fauteuil endormi; une bougie non soufflée brûlait faiblement sur la table. Miss Temple was not to be seen: I knew afterwards that she had been called to a delirious patient in the fever-room. Miss Temple ne devait pas être vue: je savais par la suite qu'elle avait été appelée chez une malade en délire dans la salle de fièvre. I advanced; then paused by the crib side: my hand was on the curtain, but I preferred speaking before I withdrew it. J'ai avancé; puis s'arrêta près du côté de la crèche: ma main était sur le rideau, mais je préférai parler avant de le retirer. I still recoiled at the dread of seeing a corpse. J'ai encore reculé de peur de voir un cadavre. “Helen!” I whispered softly, “are you awake?” She stirred herself, put back the curtain, and I saw her face, pale, wasted, but quite composed: she looked so little changed that my fear was instantly dissipated. Elle se remua, remit le rideau, et je vis son visage, pâle, émacié, mais bien calme: elle avait l'air si peu changée que ma peur se dissipa instantanément. “Can it be you, Jane?” she asked, in her own gentle voice. “Oh!” I thought, “she is not going to die; they are mistaken: she could not speak and look so calmly if she were.” I got on to her crib and kissed her: her forehead was cold, and her cheek both cold and thin, and so were her hand and wrist; but she smiled as of old. Je suis montée sur son berceau et je l'ai embrassée : son front était froid, sa joue était froide et mince, de même que sa main et son poignet ; mais elle souriait comme autrefois. “Why are you come here, Jane?

It is past eleven o’clock: I heard it strike some minutes since.” “I came to see you, Helen: I heard you were very ill, and I could not sleep till I had spoken to you.” “You came to bid me good-bye, then: you are just in time probably.” "Vous êtes venu me dire au revoir, alors : vous arrivez probablement juste à temps."

“Are you going somewhere, Helen?

Are you going home?” “Yes; to my long home—my last home.”

“No, no, Helen!”  I stopped, distressed. While I tried to devour my tears, a fit of coughing seized Helen; it did not, however, wake the nurse; when it was over, she lay some minutes exhausted; then she whispered— “Jane, your little feet are bare; lie down and cover yourself with my quilt.” "Jane, tes petits pieds sont nus ; couche-toi et couvre-toi avec mon édredon. I did so: she put her arm over me, and I nestled close to her. Je l'ai fait : elle a mis son bras sur moi et je me suis blottie contre elle. After a long silence, she resumed, still whispering— “I am very happy, Jane; and when you hear that I am dead, you must be sure and not grieve: there is nothing to grieve about. "Je suis très heureux, Jane ; et quand tu apprendras que je suis mort, tu seras sûre de toi et tu ne t'affligeras pas : il n'y a pas de quoi s'affliger. We all must die one day, and the illness which is removing me is not painful; it is gentle and gradual: my mind is at rest. Nous devons tous mourir un jour, et la maladie qui m'enlève n'est pas douloureuse; c'est doux et progressif: mon esprit est au repos. I leave no one to regret me much: I have only a father; and he is lately married, and will not miss me. Je ne laisse personne me regretter beaucoup : Je n'ai qu'un père ; il est marié depuis peu et je ne lui manquerai pas. By dying young, I shall escape great sufferings. En mourant jeune, j'échapperai à de grandes souffrances. I had not qualities or talents to make my way very well in the world: I should have been continually at fault.” Je n'avais ni qualités ni talents pour me frayer un chemin très bien dans le monde: j'aurais dû être continuellement fautif. “But where are you going to, Helen?

Can you see? Do you know?” “I believe; I have faith: I am going to God.”

“Where is God?

What is God?” “My Maker and yours, who will never destroy what He created. I rely implicitly on His power, and confide wholly in His goodness: I count the hours till that eventful one arrives which shall restore me to Him, reveal Him to me.” Je compte implicitement sur sa puissance, et me confie entièrement en sa bonté: je compte les heures jusqu'à ce qu'arrive cet événement mouvementé qui me rendra à lui, me le révélera. “You are sure, then, Helen, that there is such a place as heaven, and that our souls can get to it when we die?” «Tu es sûre, alors, Hélène, qu'il existe un endroit tel que le paradis, et que nos âmes peuvent y accéder quand nous mourrons? “I am sure there is a future state; I believe God is good; I can resign my immortal part to Him without any misgiving. «Je suis sûr qu'il y a un état futur; Je crois que Dieu est bon; Je peux lui remettre ma part immortelle sans aucune crainte. God is my father; God is my friend: I love Him; I believe He loves me.” “And shall I see you again, Helen, when I die?” "Et je te reverrai, Hélène, quand je mourrai ?" “You will come to the same region of happiness: be received by the same mighty, universal Parent, no doubt, dear Jane.” «Vous arriverez à la même région du bonheur: soyez reçu par le même parent puissant et universel, sans aucun doute, chère Jane. Again I questioned, but this time only in thought.

“Where is that region? Does it exist?”  And I clasped my arms closer round Helen; she seemed dearer to me than ever; I felt as if I could not let her go; I lay with my face hidden on her neck. Existe-t-il ?" Et je resserrai mes bras autour d'Hélène ; elle me semblait plus chère que jamais ; j'avais l'impression de ne pas pouvoir la laisser partir ; je me couchai le visage caché sur son cou. Presently she said, in the sweetest tone— Puis elle a dit, sur le ton le plus doux... “How comfortable I am! "Comme je suis à l'aise !

That last fit of coughing has tired me a little; I feel as if I could sleep: but don’t leave me, Jane; I like to have you near me.” Cette dernière quinte de toux m'a un peu fatiguée; J'ai l'impression que je pourrais dormir: mais ne me quitte pas, Jane; J'aime vous avoir près de moi. “I’ll stay with you, dear Helen: no one shall take me away.” "Je resterai avec toi, chère Hélène, personne ne m'enlèvera." “Are you warm, darling?”

“Yes.”

“Good-night, Jane.”

“Good-night, Helen.”

She kissed me, and I her, and we both soon slumbered. Elle m'a embrassé, je l'ai embrassée, et nous nous sommes endormis tous les deux.

When I awoke it was day: an unusual movement roused me; I looked up; I was in somebody’s arms; the nurse held me; she was carrying me through the passage back to the dormitory. Quand je me suis réveillé, il faisait jour : un mouvement inhabituel m'a réveillé ; j'ai levé les yeux ; j'étais dans les bras de quelqu'un ; l'infirmière me tenait ; elle me portait à travers le passage jusqu'au dortoir. I was not reprimanded for leaving my bed; people had something else to think about; no explanation was afforded then to my many questions; but a day or two afterwards I learned that Miss Temple, on returning to her own room at dawn, had found me laid in the little crib; my face against Helen Burns’s shoulder, my arms round her neck. On ne me réprimanda pas pour avoir quitté mon lit ; les gens avaient autre chose à penser ; aucune explication ne fut donnée alors à mes nombreuses questions ; mais un jour ou deux plus tard, j'appris que Miss Temple, en rentrant dans sa propre chambre à l'aube, m'avait trouvée couchée dans le petit berceau, mon visage contre l'épaule d'Helen Burns, mes bras autour de son cou. I was asleep, and Helen was—dead. Her grave is in Brocklebridge churchyard: for fifteen years after her death it was only covered by a grassy mound; but now a grey marble tablet marks the spot, inscribed with her name, and the word “Resurgam.” Sa tombe se trouve dans le cimetière de Brocklebridge: pendant quinze ans après sa mort, elle n'a été couverte que par un monticule herbeux; mais maintenant une tablette de marbre gris marque l'endroit, inscrit avec son nom, et le mot «Resurgam».